


What did I ever do to deserve this?

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Multi, Sorry Not Sorry, flappy bird - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 06:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Barricade Boys (and friends) play Flappy Bird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Title came from the reviews on the game. I'm so sorry. I saw this on the Barricade Boys tag and I had to. Forgive me.

Enjolras Grantaire Courfeyrac Combeferre Joly Bossuet Musichetta Feuilly Bahorel Jehan Marius Cosette Eponine 

It all started with Courfeyrac, as things so often do. The small get together between just them, Combeferre, Enjolras, and himself, had only just started but the brunette's intent was focused on his iPhone instead of Enjolras (who was already chatting away about what he hoped to accomplish this week at their group meeting. Tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth in concentration, the not so soft _tap, tap, tap_ of frustration on his touch screen. He groaned softly when the little bird crashed unceremoniously into the ground. Frowning slightly, he started the level again, considering it a failure that he couldn't get a higher score than 10. 

_Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap Tap Tap._ Courfeyrac groaned louder than anticipated, caused Enjolras to stop his discussion.

"Is there something drastically important that you would like to share with us?"

his friends turned to him and he gave a little shrug. "Sorry, Enjolras. I'm playing this new game on my phone and it's absolutely ridiculous and it is ruining my life."

"Ruining your life, yet you're playing it?" Combeferre piped up, brow furrowed a little as he leaned across the table they were sharing to try and get a better look at the screen."

"Yeah, it's a good kind of life ruining experience." Courfeyrac handed his phone over to his friend, giving him a wary glance of warning. "This game is addicting as heck, but it's hella fun."

Combeferre instantly started trying to play, but drastically failed at first. "Oh, this is difficult..." He gave a thoughtful sigh and handed the phone to Enjolras, who looked completely skeptical.

"I'm sure it isn't that difficult. It doesn't _look_ difficult." But of course, those words had only come out of his mouth a moment before his imminent failure. He didn't even make it past the first set of pipes. He grumbled and tried again, determined not to fail so simply, and yet... he didn't even manage to score one point. Once more, Enjolras finally made it past the first pipes, only for that little flappy asshole to fall straight into the ground.

All but throwing the phone at Courfeyrac, Enjolras rolled his eyes. "This game is stupid and pathetic, and most likely unpatriotic. Not worth my time."

"You're just mad because you suck." Courfeyrac grinned before sticking his tongue out at his friend.


	2. Healthy (Maybe) Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bahorel and Grantaire

The Next Day

Bahorel sat on the cushion, listening to Courfeyrac explain the game to him and Grantaire, claiming how hellish and difficult it was. He smirked and cracked his knuckles, pulling out his phone and starting the download.

"I bet I can get my top score to fifty in under twenty four hours." 

"And I bet I can get fifty one." R laughed, playfully punching his friend's arm. He pulled out his iPod and started up his own download.

Courfeyrac smiled, almost deviously, and looked between them. "Good luck. Don't forget to eat and sleep. No hard feelings if you guys can't do it, right?"

Bahorel gave a hearty laugh. "Do you doubt me, Courf? I've got this in the bag. Gonna whoop R's arse."

"Oh, naughty. I might like that." The artist lewdly licked his lips and gave a wink. "But I'm going to win. First to fifty wins, and when I win, you are gonna have to pay up. I'm talking drinks, mon ami. You buy at the bar when I win."

Considering the proposition for a moment, Bahorel narrowed his dark eyes. "Fine, but when you actually lose, my prize is.. watching you admit your love to our dear leader. And a pack of cigarettes."

Courfeyrac, who until they had started playing Flappy Bird again, glanced up at the mention of Enjolras. He shook his head and grinned. "You two know how to make things interesting, don't you? For Enjolras and your sake, I am on Bahorel's side. Sorry, R. It's been three damn years."

Brow furrowing, Grantaire felt a little sick. These were high stakes. A lot higher than he intended, if he was being honest. "Fine, then you tell Feuilly. That evens it out a bit." Perhaps he had had one too many drinks when he held out his hand to shake, but nevertheless, the two shook on it. After all, Grantaire was confident he would win. Bahorel, as well, was confident in his ability to win. This would be a ridiculous bet, but only one of them would come out on top.

Getting up as the two started avidly tapping at their phones, Courfeyrac smiled. His work here was done. 

"See you guys later! Good luck!"

The response was just half hearted grumbles of frustration as the epic Flappy Bird competition commenced.


	3. A Loser is Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who lost?

A Few Days Later 

"Curse this stupid game!"

Enjolras groaned and rolled over onto his back, his bed shifting slightly as he did. Holding the phone above him, he tapped at the screen, needing to get past the stupid pipes. Game over: high score 5. How was he not good at this? He was good at so many things, could rile a crowd of people into a protest, could keep his grades up with ease, but he couldn't get a stupid bird past some damned pipes. Frankly, he felt ridiculous for even bothering. He had been trying for days, trying to pass his recent obsession off as no big deal, but this stupid game was consuming him. The blonde even went as far as googling for some kind of cheat, some way to beat the game, but all the hints and the like were jokes, telling him to delete the app and save himself, as if he would never be good at this game.

Hearing a knock at the door to his dorm room, Enjolras shoved his phone under his pillow and got to his feet. With an almost resigned sigh, he pulled open the door to see Grantaire from across the hall.

"What do you want?" 

"Harsh. Courfeyrac told me you got into Flappy Bird. Just wanted to know your score?" 

"None. I'm not playing it. It's stupid and not worth my time." Enjolras scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Suuuuure. Right. Definitely not. Because you always play your phone on silent and I can't hear the theme music." R smirked and gave the man in front of him a wink. "It's fine if you're shit at it, you know. Lots of people are."

Enjolras shot him a glare and quickly closed his door, frustrated at himself, but also Grantaire. Of all people to be better than him at anything. _Grantaire._ The resident alcoholic who picks arguments with him constantly. With his stupid crooked teeth and nose. And yet, Grantaire was beating him at Flappy Bird. It wasn't even right. He groaned loudly and went back to collapse into his bed, pushing his face into his pillow.

_Knock, knock, knock_

He turned to look at the door as if it had offended him. Pulling out his phone first, he closed the app, hoping that whoever was deciding to bother him now wouldn't make stupid accusations about a dumb game.

Going back to the door, he pulled it open to reveal the same disheveled artist that had been standing there before.

"Grantaire, if you have nothing important to tell me, please leave me alone. I am a very busy person."

Taking a deep breath, R put his hand up as if to tell Enjolras to be quiet. The blonde clearly didn't like that, starting to speak once more about how he didn't like to be told to shut up, but Grantaire actually pushed his fingers to the other's lips. The physical contact left the man silent, almost shocked.

"I didn't just come to ask about Flappy Bird, but it's all this stupid game's fault that I'm here, technically. I feel so stupid right now and I don't think I could ever do this again, so listen now because I will only say this right now. Unless you want me to say it all the time, but that's on you, not on me. And honestly, I don't even think you will want that. I'm being so stupid, wow-"

Bringing his hands up to take R's away from his mouth, Enjolras huffed out a heavy sigh. "Tell me already."

"I am in love with you, damn it."

The silence could have suffocated him, engulfed him until the mere fabric of his existence was nothing more than a memory that no one would care to remember. He felt his heart sink in his chest in a sobering, entirely too long moment. He swallowed dryly, eyes falling to the ground.

"Sorry.. I'm gonna go."

In under a minute, Grantaire found himself retreating back to the shelter of his room halfway down the hall, not bothering to stop and turn when he heard Enjolras say his name. It had been years... _Years_. Yet, he regretted it the moment the worlds spilled out his lips. He would never take a bet again. Convinced he had ruined everything, he fumbled with the knob to his room and pushed through his door as quick as he could, shutting it loudly behind him before sinking against it.

His roommate, another student in the art department, knew that look of panic and tossed over the bottle of whiskey, but Grantaire could only cling to it, putting his head between his knees.

Fucking Flappy Bird. Fuck Bahorel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise this won't be all exr
> 
> it will be like two chapters that deal with them, but the rest will be flappy bird goodness.
> 
> will update soon~ (5 Feb 2014)


	4. I Haven't Any Time for Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bahorel tries (unsuccessfully) to get Feuilly to play.

That Saturday

Feuilly had about two hours between his weekend shifts, enough time to smoke a few cigarettes and have lunch with Bahorel. That was the typical Saturday, anyway. Every week Bahorel would wait outside of Feuilly's first job for him to get out, offer a cigarette, and they would start making the commute to the little cheap cafe between the ginger's jobs. Then, Feuilly would get the sandwiches while Bahorel ordered the coffees, they would pay, and at last they would sit in their corner table outside (save for winter, where they cursed the snow because they couldn't smoke inside), and talk until Feuilly needed to go.

But today was different. It wasn't that Bahorel hadn't been waiting for him, or that the plans changed. Instead, his attention was completely on his phone, tapping at his screen like some sort of idiot before Feuilly even came out the door. Crossing his arms as he looked the man over for a moment before clearing his throat, he raised a brow.

"Having fun, then?"

"This game is ruining my life."

"Stop playing?"

"Can't."

Rolling his eyes, Feuilly checked his mobile for the time before nudging Bahorel along the way they usually went. He pulled out his pack and lit up a smoke, taking a long drag to fill the silence. It never was this quiet, given that they usually were talking, so Feuilly didn't quite like this game already.

"What is the game?" He asked, curious as to what was getting his best friend to ignore him so readily.

Bahorel let the little bird crash into the ground, displaying his current high score of 62, before shoving his phone in his pocket. "Sorry. It's called Flappy Bird and it's the most addictive fucker ever. Courfeyrac got me into it, the bastard."

Unable to stop from laughing, Feuilly playfully punched Bahorel's shoulder. "You honest to fucking goodness took game advice from Courfeyrac? Is it more addicting than my obvious allure?"

"Fuck no, Fe. But it's pretty damn close," Bahorel joked, running a hand through his current mohawk before pulling out his own cigarette to smoke. "Me and R are actively competing. I mean, he lost the first milestone, but I have until tonight to beat him again."

Feuilly's interest was caught, so he took a drag, giving his friend the nod to continue.

"Well, we had to get to 50. I got to it first, so I won. That sorry fucking bastard had to admit his feelings to mother fuckin' Enjolras. I've got no doubt in my head that he got pissed before he did, though. He's too much of a bitch to do it sober." Bahorel gave a shrug. As much as he cherished his friendship with Grantaire, he knew the man pretty well. 

"What if you lose?"

" _Lose_?" Bahorel asked, as if he was shocked the idea would ever come up.

Feuilly rolled his eyes. "Yes, lose. What do you have to do?"

"Gotta tell my object of affection how I feel. It's bullshit, that's what it is. But I'm not going to lose, so no worries."

"Oh." 

Feuilly's face fell just slightly before he finished the last of his cigarette as they got to their lunch spot. He didn't want to think about Bahorel and his love interests. At all. He pulled out his wallet and sighed. "I got paid, so I'll buy today. You get next week?"

"Sure. I'll take our spot." Bahorel made it to their table and let his cigarette hang on his lip as he sat, phone already out and tapping at the screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just a filler, basically, and the next chapter will have more actually flappy bird stuff.


	5. Can I Die From This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Joly and Bossuet play and Musichetta hates Courfeyrac for introducing her boys to the game.

The Following Monday

The boys were at the pub for their usually night of drinks and basic planning, but thanks to Courfeyrac's Flappy Bird recommendation, most people we absorbed into their phones. Bahorel and R were comparing scores, every now and then R would glance off to Enjolras in the corner, trying to focus on his papers for the upcoming protest meeting. Enjolras, who had long since given up on Flappy Bird, declaring it unpatriotic and stupid, did his best to avoid Grantaire's eye. After the whole confrontation, things were just awkward and he didn't know how to approach him about it.

Everyone seemed to be involved in their own conversations, or in the case of Marius and Cosette, absent. Jehan was braiding Eponine's hair, so in lieu of starting a conversation with him, Courfeyrac wandered over to Joly and Bossuet. Joly, as ever, was inspecting his tongue with a handheld mirror. As the centre approached, he smiled. 

"What's on your disease list today?"

"I am convinced I have tongue cancer. There are no other options. Unless it's-"

"It isn't cancer, Joly," Bossuet gave a soft sigh, once more trying (unsuccessfully) to get the mirror. He didn't honestly try too hard, though. It wasn't worth the effort, given that his boyfriend claimed he had a new disease or illness every day. 

Courfeyrac shook his head and held out his phone. "If you haven't noticed, everyone is playing this game. I think you guys would like it." He smiled, almost deviously, and waiting for the response. "Enjolras sucks at it, but everyone else is getting pretty good.

Curiously, Joly took the phone and started at it. The first few tries were pretty bad, but within a short time he made it to 10. Bossuet took Joly's phone from his pocket and downloaded the game to play as well (given that he didn't have a nice touch screen phone because it was no where near durable enough for how often he dropped his phone). 

Unlike Joly, however, he was no where near good at the game, the bird crashing within a moment's tap. He huffed softly, but never the less kept trying. 

"Just give me my phone before the end of the night, yeah?" Courfeyrac grinned, leaving the boys to their future destruction.

Just a Few Days Later

TEXT from Chetta: what the fuck courf  
TEXT from Courfeyrac: ??????  
TEXT from Chetta: flappy bird is apparently better than me  
TEXT from Courfeyrac: LMAO. Oh god, don't kill me.  
TEXT from Courfeyrac: Just tell Joly his finger looks swollen. He'll stop.  
TEXT from Courfeyrac: And the only way to make the swelling go down is to put it in a chick's vag (hint: that's where you come in)  
TEXT from Chetta: im gonna kill you lol ;p

Musichetta shifted her hips, looking at her boys sitting on the couch, all hunched over, trying to get that stupid bird through some pipes. After having tried the game herself, she found it boring and pointless, and unlike most of the men in her life, she had easily resisted the temptation to play. But now her current predicament was frustrating, to say the least. 

Going to push herself to sit between them, she sighed dramatically. "Pay attention to me or I'm going to die of boredom." And after a moment's wait, having only earned small mumbles that sounded like they were half listening, she added. "If you stop playing that game, we can have a little _fun_? I'm feeling ridiculously generous, given that I've been ignored all day."

Needless to say, that was all she needed to say (with the help of slowly starting to unbutton her shirt), and the boys had tossed the games aside with little effort.

It was a good night, and Flappy Bird was never mentioned in their flat again.


	6. This is Getting Ridiculous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine, Marius, and Cosette all get into the game. Regrettably.

The Next Night

It wasn't Courfeyrac who introduced Eponine to Flappy Bird, but rather Grantaire. He had been playing the game, groaning in frustration, all but having touched the beer sitting next to him for the past hour. Usually, he would be several in, but getting drunk didn't help his score to he needed to get to at least 200 before he could take time to get fully wasted. At 157, he heard someone walking over, but he didn't dare lift his eyes.

Eponine slid into the seat next to him, peering over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He made it only through a few more pipes before she casually asked what he was playing, causing him to fuck up and set that stupid bird crashing into the ground. Throwing his iPod to the ground, he cursed loudly and then mentally thanked himself for getting that super protective case for it.

"Fucking hell, 'Ponine. I was so damn close to beating my top score." R grumbled, reaching to pick his phone back up, grabbing the beer next to him and taking a swig before sighing. "This game literally ruined my life. I thought I had already failed as a human being, but this made things worse."

Eponine frowned a little. "What's it, then?"

Handing over his phone, Grantaire explained "it's called Flappy Bird. You tap the screen and get this demented fucking thing through a ton of pipes, but it's really hard."

"Doesn't sound hard," she shrugged, taking the phone. The first few times were quick fails, but soon enough Eponine proved how much of a damn genius she was at the game, getting to a score of 20 within a few minutes work. 

Grantaire stared at her, mouth slightly agape as she played, hating that it came so fucking easy to her.

"Can I borrow your iPod to play for a bit?" 

"Go right ahead. Clearly, you are good at it."

An hour and three beers later

"Damn it! Three short of your high score."

"Sod off.." Grantaire shoved her shoulder lightly. "I can't believe how good you are at this. Next time I have a bet with Bahorel, I'm making you play for me." 

"Bet with Bahorel?"

"Don't ask."

The Same Day, but in a Slightly Different Location

"No, Marius, you're tapping too quick."

Instead of tapping like he had, Marius tried slower, but the bird crashed to the ground.

"Like this.. look.." Courfeyrac took the phone back and showed him, not for the last time, how to do it. Handing the phone over, he watched Marius attempt it again. They had been sitting on the couch at Cosette's for an hour now, while Cosette made them dinner, insisting that her cooking class was really going well and that she didn't need any help.

But Marius couldn't get the hang of it. If it could be believed, he was nearly as bad as Lesgles. Cosette, on the other hand, wasn't into games, so it wasn't as if it mattered. He wouldn't be playing it if she wasn't involved, aside from now.

"I can't get it, Courfeyrac.. it's impossible. I give up."

"I understand, mon ami. It isn't for everyone." The curly haired brunette gave a friendly grin and patted his friend on the shoulder. "Let's go check on Cosette, then? It smells amazing and I am famished."


	7. Ode to a Flappy bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jehan gets poetic.

Jehan sat in the cafe, waiting for the crowds of people to roll in, a Keats book in his hand and tea on the table next to him. The natural light from the sun shown in on the page, basking him as he read. Ode to a Nightingale, one of his favourites, was the current poem he was reading. It made him think more existentially, but today his thoughts were interrupted much earlier than he had been expecting. Enjolras had been the first to come in, chatting in hushed tones on his phone. 

"No, I'm deleting the damn thing. It's awful and I hate it... Yes, he did... I know... Okay, I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow." Sighing, the blonde ended the call and put his phone in his pocket, looking up to see Jehan. "Ah, good afternoon."

"To you as well, dear leader. You're nearly an hour earlier than usual?"

Enjolras ran a hand through his curls and put his bag down at his usual spot. "I haven't finished my work for the meeting tonight, so I hoped to get here to work on it. I won't bother you, will I?"

"No, no, mon ami. No need for worries. I was simply reading about birds and life, contemplating metaphors in poetry."

Pulling out a few papers, Enjolras made a soft sound at the word 'bird'. "Sounds enlightening. I never want to think about birds ever again, to be quite frank."

"Why not?"

"Courfeyrac has recently gotten nearly all of our friends into this game, and it has figuratively destroyed everything in its path."

Jehan looked interested, bookmarking his page with a gentle fold at the corner, setting the book down. "I don't think I would wish to get the game that seems to wreck everyone's life so much, but may I see it?"

Going over to his friend, Enjolras pulled out his phone and brought the game to the screen before handing it over.

Playing for nearly a minute, Jehan's brow furrowed. "Perhaps Keats was wrong. This is one bird that is truly born for death. Alas.." 

After Jehan had handed back the phone, Enjolras only wished he had given up as easily as Prouvaire.

The Next Week

The Flappy Bird phase was over, thankfully, and things started returning back to normal. Mostly because the game was deleted from the app store, Courfeyrac didn't introduce anyone else to the game. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed reading this.  
> it was not my idea, but it happened anyway.
> 
> if you want me to write you something, i can be reached at quinngrey.tumblr.com/ask
> 
> also, please comment!


End file.
